As a parent you get to see lots of firsts, such as your child’s first steps and first words. Unfortunately, you also get to see other, less pleasant firsts, like when your darling baby boy falls and scrapes himself. And just recently - a lot sooner than I though it would happen – Junior got his little toddler heart broken for the first time.
My wife and I watched it all happen and couldn’t do a thing about it. We wanted to visit some of our favorite restaurants (we were moving to a really small town with not a lot of dining options) so we stopped in at the 66 Diner shortly before we moved. Our waitress brought us some menus and we placed our order, and somewhere in there we realized that Junior had it bad for the waitress.
Junior is at an age where he hasn’t realized that it’s impolite to stare, and the whole time he just stared goggle-eyed while she took our order. He continued to stare longingly as she walked off. He was transfixed and waited patiently for her to return from the kitchen, and when she did, he continued to stare as she waited on her other tables. We knew it was serious when he wouldn’t stop staring long enough to eat, because Junior loves to eat. We even offered him french fries (which he loves) but he couldn’t be bothered. (For the record, we don’t feed him french fries very often. Just sometimes when we eat out, and even then it’s only a few. You’re not such a great parent either.)
When her other tables left, our waitress came over and chatted with Junior, and after an initial moment of shyness Junior was dropping some pretty smooth lines.
Waitress: Hey, what’s your name?
Junior: Oh yeh beeeeeeeeee! Bop bop yeeeeeeee!
Waitress: Cool. What’re you doing tonight?
Junior: Woah woah no no bee beeeeeeeeeeeeeee! (Blows raspberry)
Eventually we had to pay and go home, and Junior was devastated. He cried all the way out to the car and the whole way home. I suspect that somewhere in there they had a little talk where she told him that she needed a man who was a little more stable, didn’t live with his parents and didn’t poop in his pants.
“Get used to it,” I told Junior as he cried broken-heartedly. “Women will do that to you.”
Fortunately, earlier in the daytime my cousin had given us a large yellow summer squash and Junior hugged it like a stuffed animal. He held on to it and cried himself to sleep. (For the record, he has other toys, I promise. He just really liked the squash. Shut up.)
He was feeling better the next day because everyone knows that the remedy for a broken heart is a yellow summer squash.
If you don't have kids, have you ever tried to spit game at a waiter/waitress and it didn't go so well?
If you have kids, has your baby ever gotten really attached to anything weird?
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